Am I Dead?
by foreverme98
Summary: Tris gets hurt and she finds out Eric actually has feelings. Developing relationship. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

"Stop!"

Thank God. I can't take any more. Every part of my body throbs. My left eye is swollen shut, and my nose feels three times it's normal size.

I want to lie on the mat and die in peace, but if I don't get up soon Eric will kick my butt. He doesn't tolerate weakness. He doesn't tolerate things like mercy and compassion.

 _Get up. Get up before you are forced to go again._

A hand wraps around my arm, tugging me to a standing position. Thankfully, the hand stays put, otherwise I'd find my way to the floor again in no time.

"Tris." A familiar deep voice cuts through my hazy thoughts.

The last thing I remember before my world goes dark is the feel of rough hands picking me up, carrying me to safety.

0000

"You. Need. To. Fix. Her."

Fantastic. Eric's on the warpath. The barely restrained anger held in each word, warns me he is close to losing it.

I should open my eyes, but I'm comfortable and my head throbs. Opening my eyes would kill me right now.

"I'm doing the best I can," a woman replies patiently.

"Do better," he bites out.

Whatever has his panties in a wad must be important. He sounds more surly than usual.

"Perhaps you should leave if you can't be patient," the woman says, less understanding this time.

"That's not happening."

He never sounds unsure. I often envy his confidence. It pours off him in waves, hitting everyone with its power.

I don't envy his anger and cruelty.

"Thirsty," I say hoarsely.

"Your awake," Eric

I've either died or I'm still asleep because Eric wouldn't care if I was awake or not. In fact, he'd probably prefer me dead.

"Tris?" he asks as if he's afraid I fell back to sleep.

Yeah, I'm dead. Not even I could dream this up.

"Why isn't she responding?"

"You shouldn't yell," I finally manage to say. "You're making my headache worse."

I'm going to pay for that comment, but who cares? Soon I'll be factionless. I keep losing fights and my shooting skills leave a lot to be desired. In all honesty, it's only a matter of time.

Once I get back on my feet, I am going to be terrified at the thought of being without a faction, but right now I can't muster the energy.

"Always with the back talk," he says fondly.

"Why are you here?" I croak.

"Had to make sure Peter hadn't killed you," he says lightly.

Fingers press against my ribs and I can't contain the cry that crawls its way between my parted lips.

"Watch it!" Eric yells. "I brought her here for you to heal her, not injure her further."

With superhuman strength, I pry my eyes open, quickly taking in my surroundings.

So someone took me to Dauntless' makeshift hospital. I catalogue beds lined in a row, bare walls, and a large man sitting beside me - Eric in all his glory, for once looking like he wants to help me rather than hurt me.

The nurse continues to poke and prod me, completely ignoring the thunderous expression Eric's aiming her way. _I guess not everyone is afraid of the big bad Eric_ , I think, secretly amused.

"We need a real doctor around here," he grumbles loudly enough for both of us to hear.

"I've had just about enough of your mouth," the pink-haired girl retorts.

"I'm fine," I assure both of them. I need to get back to training.

"You have two cracked ribs, a black eye, and a concussion. Not quite fine," she corrects. "You're going to need someone to stay with you until tomorrow."

Perhaps Christine? Or Will...

"I'll do it," Eric offers gruffly.

"No," I shoot back instantly.

I start to understand why Eric's playing the concerned leader. He's looking for an opportunity to take me out. Well, I am _not_ going down without a fight.

"Yes," Eric says, standing from his chair.

"I have friends," I mumble.

He says nothing to my petulant comment. Instead, he gingerly picks me up and cradles me in his arms.

"Are you sure I'm not dead?" I ask the brightly colored hair nurse.

"Pretty sure, yeah," she says, her confused eyes observing me carefully.

What would happen if I asked her to help me? Is she a good enough fighter to beat Eric? _It would be selfish to take the chance, knowing she might get hurt_ , I tell myself.

Though this is Dauntless. There's a decent chance she wouldn't help me even if I begged and pleaded.

"I will be soon," I say under my breath.

0000

"You can stay in my quarters till tomorrow," he says, like me being in his apartment is no big deal. And it is. It's a very big deal.

He carries me down numerous corridors, finally reaching his door.

Inside is what I would imagine Eric's room to look like had I ever given it much thought. Bare except for the weapons scattered randomly throughout the large room. Throwing knives littered the kitchen counter, a few guns lean against the side of his large bed. If he brought me here to kill me, he would have plenty of options available to him.

Deciding I've been quiet long enough, I gaze resolutely into his eyes, tilt my chin defiantly, and say, "Are you going to kill me?"

He keeps eye contact. "You think I'm capable of that?"

From anyone else I would think I'd hurt his feelings, but Eric is Eric, and, yes, I think him capable of it. Eric does what he wants, when he wants, rules be damned.

My silence must be answer enough for him because he nods his head. In the next second, I'm being deposited gently on the bed. Eric's bed. The bed Eric sleeps on. The bed he probably does...other things on.

"Are you hungry?" He heads to a small fridge next to the sink.

"No," I say, which is a lie. I haven't eaten since last night.

"Are you trying to be selfless by not eating, or something? You hardly ate anything last night and you didn't have anything for breakfast," he says, taking out two pieces of bread from a cabinet over the sink.

How does he know my eating habits? Has he been watching me? I almost ask, but I think better of it before the words leave my mouth. "What are you making?" I ask instead.

"A culinary delicacy," he says, turning his head to grin at me.

The "culinary delicacy" turns out to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and it tastes amazing. I'm so hungry I don't put up much of a fight when he offers the sandwich to me. I figure if he poisoned it, then that will be that. I've had a good run.

"Why aren't you eating?" I ask suspiciously.

For some unknown reason, he seems inclined to sit on the side of the bed and stare at me. I haven't had a chance to look into a mirror since my fight with Peter, but I can easily guess I look terrible. I certainly feel terrible. And I'm not one to be self-conscious about my looks thanks to my Abnegation upbringing, and yet I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks. Hopefully, I'm bruised up enough, he won't see my blush.

"Lost my appetite," he replies, his expression not giving anything away. "Don't worry," he adds, his eyes teasing, "I didn't poison your food."

"Didn't say you did."

"You were thinking it," he replies, smiling.

"Why are you doing this?" I blurt out.

"Doing what?" His innocent face doesn't fool me for a second. Eric has an agenda, and I want to know what it it.

"Your being...nice. To me, the Stiff. Why?"

"You know what I think I like the most about you, Tris?" he says, ignoring my question, and using my real name for the first time in...well, forever. "You're extremely feisty. You don't cower for anyone, and I respect that."

"So we're exchanging heartfelt speeches now?" I ask incredulously.

"Didn't think you'd be into that kind of thing," he teases.

"Eric!" I yell without thinking.

I'm just so frustrated and confused, I'm not thinking straight. No one raises their voice to Eric unless they have a death wish.

He takes a deep breath as if to brace himself. "I was scared when you went down," he confesses quietly. "You just...you just _fell_ and I froze."

I say nothing because my brain has deserted me. Words have escaped me, and I'm lost.

"I'm used to being in control," he admits. "I like it that way, so when you came along I wasn't prepared."

"Prepared?"

"For you," he laughs. "Today I finally realized something," he continues soberly. "Something mind blowing and very scary."

"What's that?" I ask softly, half afraid to hear his answer.

"Tris, I'm in love with you."

A gasp echoes off the walls, bouncing around like an out-of-control bouncy ball. I realize, belatedly, that the loud sound came from me.

 _He's lying._ This is some kind of trick to embarrass me. He wants to see me broken. He wants to see me bleed.

"Stop," I demand, my voice shaking.

"Why?" he counters. "I'm tired of pretending that I don't care about you. I'm not saying you have to feel the same way, but could you at least give me a chance, Stiff?"

"I don't believe you," I whisper. "You don't have feelings," I say, my voice rising.

I ignore the shame I feel from saying something so harsh. I have _nothing_ to be ashamed over, so I stuff the feeling away and wait for Eric to cut the charade. Any minute now he's going to get up and smirk over how I'm not as gullible as I look. I just have to be patient and wait. Only, I wait and wait some more and nothing happens.

"This is about Four, isn't it?" Eric's sitting next to me, hunched over; gaze averted. I swear I can detect bitterness in his tone. "You have a _crush_ on him, right?"

I have a hard time maintaining eye contact with his eyes drilling into my soul, searching for an answer to his question. Four hasn't been on my mind for some time. He's a mystery I don't have the time to solve with everything I have going on. At one point I was interested, but that faded away fairly quickly once training began.

"No," I say. "I don't have feelings for Four."

"If that's true, then your refusing to give me a chance, based on...?"

Impatience lights his eyes, his jaw is clenched in what I think to be anger, and I say the words I've been dying to say since I met him. "You're cruel. You revel in other people's pain for no other reason than the joy you get out of it," I let loose, the words flying from my mouth like arrows. "You don't care about anyone but yourself. If you really mean what you say, then I'm saying no based on who you are," I pause, "because when I look at you, I see nothing more than an empty, angry, bitter man."


	2. Chapter 2

"You're right," he says. "I'm not a good person."

Am I surprised he agrees so easily? I don't know. None of what's happening makes any sense, and I'm so tired of trying to figure it out. All of the sudden, I want to go home. I miss my mother's gentleness, I miss my father's kindness. I need to feel safe again. I promised myself I wouldn't regret my decision in choosing Dauntless. I swore I'd never look back because deep down I knew I had nothing to look back to. I love my parents, but I can't _be_ them. I'm not sure I can be Dauntless either. I'm not sure who I am anymore. I'm not sure. _I'm not sure._

"Hey," Eric says softly. He places a large, calloused hand under my chin, and I let him. "I'm sorry. I should've kept my feelings to myself," he apologizes.

"Why?" I ask confused by his sudden change of heart.

He turns his face away from me. "Because you can't see me as someone you want by your side. And that's my fault."

It is his fault. Despite that, I find myself feeling sorry for him. I understand Eric. There's a part of me just like him. A part I like to pretend doesn't exist, but that doesn't make it any less real.

"I never thought I'd hear an apology coming from you," I say wryly.

He takes a peak at me from under his ridiculously thick eyelashes. "Yeah, well, what can I say? A small girl from Abnegation knocked a few hard truths into my thick head," he says, his grin turning his cold eyes into something warm...approachable.

"Tris," he breathes. "I'm not a good person. I'm selfish and cruel and, yes, I always put myself first. I hardly know how to be anything else, and before I met you, I had no desire to be anything else."

Abruptly, without warning, he stands to his feet. I watch warily as he paces the length of the bed back and forth. "I've never met anyone like you," he says, agitation in every line of his muscled body. "You defy every expectation. When you volunteered to jump first off that building I knew, even then, you were someone special."

"Eric-"

"Please let me finish," he begs.

I feel powerless against the onslaught of his emotions. They're consuming me, burning me alive. I want to plead for him to stop because I can't stand it.

"I'll leave you alone if that's what you want. I'll never bring any if this up again, but, please, I have to say this. Don't deny me the chance to be brave like you."

He isn't playing fair. Do I even have a choice? I doubt it, so I nod my head for him to continue. I wait while he attempts to get control over his ragged breathing.

"I'm scared," he whispers. "I'm so scared, Tris. Of everything actually," he continues, laughing humorously. "I always have been and the way I deal with it is to create fear in others. It makes _my_ fear bearable."

I wish he'd look at me. I'm terrible at this sort of thing, but I want to try. For him. I can't say why because a second ago I wanted to run and hide.

"When you joined Dauntless, I hated you," he says, no apology in his voice.

I appreciate that. I don't want him to put a pretty bow on the truth because the truth is hardly ever pretty.

"I hated your courage. I hated how you refused to show weakness no matter what was going on around you. I was jealous to the point where I wanted to hurt you."

I begin to hear the self hatred he has for himself in that last sentence. I know what he said to be the truth. I remember seeing the angry looks he threw my way.

"I know," I say.

He smiles gently at me. "You make me brave," he says, changing the subject. "I can't help but be inspired by you."

"I...Eric - I don't know what to say."

His laugh is deep, comforting. He should laugh more. It transforms his entire face, leaving me breathless. It doesn't help that he sits back down next to me, though he keeps his distance.

"You need to sleep." That's all he says, but I can hear so many different things in those words. I hear, "I'll protect you. I hear, "Please give me a chance. I hear, "I love you."

I hadn't realized how tired I was until he mentioned it. I knew what he was doing though. He was giving me an out. He wasn't going to push me. For once, Eric was going to back down first. I'm crazy for what I was about to do. I will most likely regret it later. I'll probably kick myself. Or have Peter do it for me.

"Lay with me," I say, not giving myself a chance to change my mind.

His eyes search mine as if to make sure I'm being serious. It's taking too long for him to respond, so I speed things up. "Lay with me, Eric," I demand.

Exhilaration courses through my veins and I've never felt more alive as I do now. The time to be hesitant, to be cautious has passed. I'm ready to burn.

0000

I wake up disoriented. It's unbearably hot, which is weird because at night I usually freeze.

When I shift, I feel someone behind me copy the movement. An arm tightens around my waist; a face nuzzles the back of my neck. My brain catches up with what's going on, reminding me who's spooning me, and I press my face into the pillow, smiling like some kind of lunatic.

This insanely happy person isn't me. I'm somber and every once in awhile, sarcastic. Now I'm a stranger to myself. I hardly know what to do with all these feelings coming at me like a freight train. Eric's handling this much better than I am, and it's unfair. The emotionally stunted leader shouldn't be better at this than me.

"Stop moving, Stiff," Eric mumbles, pressing a light kiss to my neck.

"Sorry," I whisper, wishing I hadn't woken him up. I'm not ready to talk just yet. I need time to process and accept yesterday's surprising turn of events.

He presses his body more firmly against mine. "Love you..." He says, drifting back off to sleep.

And I'm smiling again. I decide to stop worrying about tomorrow, or everyday after tomorrow. It's a waste of time when I have this boy clutching me to him as if I'm everything he needs. For tonight, it's enough.


	3. Chapter 3

I wake from a dreamless sleep, feeling more refreshed than I have in a long time. My entire body aches, but my mind is calm. It's been so long, I've almost forgotten what peace feels like.

"Do you laze around in bed all the time?" I hear Eric call from the small kitchenette in the apartment I'm in. "If you do that's fine, but I should probably know for future reference."

Ignoring him, I glance around till my eyes land on an alarm clock sitting on top of a wooden dresser. Big, red numbers inform me it's 10:30. I should've been up hours ago. And just like that, the wonderfully elusive peace disappeared, to be replaced with wide-eyed panic.

I waste no time in throwing the covers off, but I don't get the chance to hop out of bed because Eric's standing over me, holding me down by my shoulders.

"Yeah," he says. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Don't tell me what to do." I try for calm, but I can tell I fail when Eric raises a pierced eyebrow at me.

"You need to rest, so I've excused you from training for the day."

"You can't do that," I exclaim indignantly.

He's about to argue, I can tell. He's about to smugly tell me he's a leader and that he can do whatever he wants. I'm prepared for this and I'm more than ready to argue back. He _knows_ I'm the weakest initiate. If I don't train I'm not going to make it. And if I don't make it, I might as well ask Eric to shoot me because I refuse to live my life factionless.

"I'm not any good at this," Eric murmurs self deprecatingly.

"What?" I say, still gearing for a fight.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to control you. I gave you the day off because you're hurt and if you don't rest, you won't heal properly," he reasons.

It makes sense. I completely understand why he did what he did, but I'm worried.

"Tomorrow we'll do some one on one training."

I look up at the boy who just yesterday declared his love for me. The offer throws me for a loop. This new Eric was going to take some time getting used to.

"Don't look at me like that," he says.

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like I just grew another head. Do you really think I'm going to let my girlfriend get cut?"

Girlfriend.

My cheeks flush. My breath hitches. He's teasing, but his eyes flit across my face nervously. He's waiting for me to either accept or reject him, and it's all happening to soon.

"Think about it," he says quietly, letting me off the hook. "In the meantime, I made breakfast."

"Another culinary delicacy?" I ask playfully.

I idly wonder what's happening to me.

Eric snorts. "I hope you like bacon."

I don't smile when I see his uncertain eyes peering at me. I don't smile when I reassure him that, yes, I like bacon. I definitely don't smile when he brings the food over to me, proud as a peacock. It looked fantastic too.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast," I say, around a crispy piece of bacon.

"I wanted to. This," he pauses, gesturing between us, "is new for me. I want to do it right, you know? I'm actually enjoying it so far," he says thoughtfully.

"What happens when I leave your room?" I ask.

"That's up to you, Stiff."

0000

"She's busy."

I roll my eyes from my perch on the couch. Eric finally let me get out of bed an hour ago, but I'd still be there if I hadn't made him loosen up.

Now though it seemed I was too busy _sitting on the couch_ to talk to Four.

"I just want to make sure she's okay," Four says quietly.

"I told you she's fine," Eric replies shortly.

"Then let me in," Four challenges.

I slowly get to my feet and take the few steps necessary to reach the door. I hesitantly bring my hand to rest on Eric's tense back. His reaction immediate - the tension eases from his muscles, and he turns his head to regard me, his stare disapproving.

"Hi," I say, making eye contact with Four.

He's here to make sure Eric hasn't hurt me. Four has never come to find me after a fight went bad. Someone probably told him where I was.

"You okay?" Four asks me softly.

"Peter got in a few good hits, but I'm fine," I say.

Piercing eyes glance between Eric and I. "I needed to make sure," he says. "Do you want me to take you back to your dormitory now? Your friends have been asking about you."

I completely forgot about Christina, Will, and Al. I do want to see them. They must be worried about me.

I open my mouth to say 'yes' but I stop. Eric's being uncharacteristically quiet. I tilt my head to find his face set in a serene expression. Somehow I know it's a mask.

If I leave, Eric will see it as a betrayal. It's obvious Four thought Eric might've done something to me. And to leave with Four would hurt Eric. Can I do that? Can I knowingly hurt him?

Perhaps the better question is - is Eric worth the risk? Am I prepared to bet on him? He's been one of the worst people I've ever known until yesterday. Will this change be permanent? Is this version of Eric enough to make me take a leap of faith?

I'm taken back to that moment when I chose Dauntless as my faction. I remember making the decision to jump off a building, hoping but not knowing for sure I'd survive.

There are no guarantees in life. You got to step out, take risks, and hope you don't crash and fall along the way. I chose Dauntless because above all else, I want to live my life to its fullest.

"I'll have Eric take me back."

"You're sure?" Four questions. It's the first time I've ever seen him show this much emotion.

"Positive, but thanks anyway," I reply firmly.

Four looks troubled by my response, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything else before Eric's slammed the door in his face.

In the next second, I'm being pulled into Eric's chest. His hands greedily grasp the back of my t-shirt, and I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around his lean waist.

"You're the first," he says, after several long minutes of silence.

"The first to what?" I ask.

"The first person to choose me over Four."

I squeeze tighter.


	4. Chapter 4

"Tell me again why you're insisting on going back to the dormitory when I have a perfectly functional bed in my room?"

"I want to see my friends," I say for the thousandth time. "Also, I can't stay in your room forever."

His smile is wicked, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

It's slow going and I fight to contain a cringe every time we pass someone because the shocked looks we're receiving make me feel incredibly uncomfortable. I discreetly look to see Eric's reaction, but he's not giving anything away.

"Tris!" Christina.

I'm conflicted. I'm not necessarily ashamed of being seen with Eric, but Christina isn't going to be understanding if I tell her the truth. I can't expect her to be okay with him after what he did to her. What kind of person does that make me, I wonder? After all he's done, here I am, walking beside him, comforting him in his room...

"Are you okay?" She's pulling me away from Eric. I let her check me over and I listen to her concerned questions. I won't let my gaze stray to Eric.

"Yeah," I reply. Only maybe I'm not fine.

"We were worried about you. Will and I went to the nurse's station to visit, but they said you weren't there." No, I wasn't, and I can't tell her where I was.

"I had to be watched. Concussion," I say vaguely. Let it go. Please, let it go.

"I'm glad you're okay. Peter looked like he was going to kill you."

"I'm fine, Christina." I choke out a laugh and shuffle my feet.

Things become awkward after that. Eric hasn't moved, Christina won't acknowledge his presence, and I stare at the floor like a coward. We're frozen in place, unsure of the roles we're supposed to play. Or that might just be me.

 _He's worth it. He's worth the risk._

No, I scream inside of my head. This is asking too much. Christina is my friend...If I choose to walk down this path I'll lose her. I'll lose Will and Al.

 _He's worth it._

 _You're the first,_ floods my mind.

There's a rush of air, and Eric steps around us. He keeps his head down, taking care not to touch me. I try not to move. I really try to stay still. My head's pleading for me to let him go, but my heart's begging for the Dauntless leader walking away from me.

My hand reaches for his at the last moment. Fingers slide along scabbed knuckles, grasping and tugging till two hands become one. He hasn't looked at me yet, but that's okay. I don't deserve to be forgiven. Not when I came so close to pretending he meant nothing to me.

"Eric let me stay with him," I inform Christina, who's currently staring at our hands.

"What?" Christina wouldn't be kind. She was a Candor after all.

"He let me stay with him," I repeat, slower this time.

"Why didn't you ask your _friends_ to stay with you?" Her voice is stiff, unyielding.

"I insisted I do it," Eric says, turning cold eyes to Christina's equally cold ones.

"Don't. Don't tell me what I think you're going to tell me," the Christina I know, pleads with me.

"I-"

"I thought you were better than that," she says disdainfully.

"Christina, I didn't plan-" "

You didn't plan to what? Didn't plan to sleep with the enemy?" she yells.

I shut my mouth.

"Back off," Eric cuts in. "Tris didn't do anything, so stop."

"She did enough." Then she's gone.

"Well," I whisper. "That went well I think."

I stand there, going over what just happened, and eventually I have tears sliding down my face. I do everything I can to prevent it, but it's no use.

For the second time in less than 48 hours, I'm being picked up like a small child. There's no resistance this time though. I allow his warmth to seep through my chilled body, and I cling to him as if I'm drowning at sea, desperate to find land.

"I can walk," I say weakly.

"Of course you can," he replies. "I'm here though, which means you don't have to."

"I don't want to cry. I want to be stronger than this."

"Crying doesn't make you weak, Stiff."

"I don't believe you." I sniff, burying my face in the soft hoodie he's wearing.

"You taught me that showing emotion is nothing to be ashamed of," he replies quietly. "If this is about me, don't even go there. I can't stand the thought of you hiding what you're feeling because you think I'll look down on you."

I consider what he's saying. "Okay," I breathe.

I close my eyes, relieved that I'm back in Eric's apartment. I think about how strange life is. I think about how quickly things can change. I think about Christina, my family, and everyone else in between.

I sigh. "I'm tired, Eric. What do you do when you want to give up?" I ask.

He goes to the couch, keeping me on his lap as he sits down. "I don't know. I don't think there's an easy answer to that question."

"I'd like it if there was," I say.

"Me to, Stiff. Me too."

0000

So I heard you're sleeping your way to the top now," Peter sneers at me. "Honestly? I thought you were more Four's type. I mean, he's always undressing you with his eyes, you know?"

 _Keep throwing the knives, Tris._

I focus till the weapon feels like an extension of my arm. I concentrate on the target up ahead, confident I'll hit the bullseye.

"I'm kind of curious now," his voice cuts through my hard won concentration. "What are you hiding under those baggy clothes, huh?" In my peripheral vision, I notice how he leans into me, his hand heading for my waist.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Eric warns. He's beside me in a flash, looking down at Peter, murder flashing in his eyes.

I've learned a lot about Eric in the past week. He's sensitive. He's extremely talented when it comes to hiding the insecurities, I now know, plague him daily. He's a serious snuggler when it's just me and him. More than anything though, he's protective of what's his.

I've argued till I'm blue in the face that I'm not a possession, but he doesn't listen. I let it go when he tells me he's mine. As long as we're on equal footing, I'll learn to do deal with it.

"I-I wasn't going to do anything," Peter stammers.

"Really?" Erik asks. In the blink of an eye, he's in Peter's face, gripping Peter by the collar. "It didn't look that way to me," he says.

The entire room is silent, waiting to see what will happen, knowing it won't be good.

"You s-saw wrong, I guess." That was the worst thing he could say. I thought he'd know better than to question Eric's intelligence. I'd wince if I cared about Peter's wellbeing.

"Are you saying I'm stupid, Peter?" Eric questions the shaking boy.

Peter swallows convulsively. "Of course not."

"Then why are you lying to my face?" Eric's hand slides from Peter's collar to his neck. He's losing himself and I don't care how much I hate Peter, I can't let Eric hurt him.

"Eric," I say, hoping to draw his attention to me. I watch as his hand closes around Peter's throat and I try again, this time louder.

"Eric." I'm fully aware of the risk I'm taking. Once Eric's in a rage, it has to run its course. He's more animal like this than man.

"What?" He snaps at me.

"Let him go," I say.

He tightens his grip defiantly, and I'm sure I've lost. I'm sure Peter's about to be seriously hurt. But I refuse to look away because there's a slim chance I'll be able to reach him. To look away would be like giving up on him, and I can't do that. Not ever. I stand tall and wait for Eric to decide. I'm almost positive years have passed by the time he staggers back, fingers flexing.

He did it.

"Don't ever try to touch her again," Eric snarls. "If you so much as think about laying a hand on her, I will kill you."

After he's been let go, Peter slumps to the ground, relief covering his sweaty face.

Now that the storm has passed, I have no idea what to expect from Eric. He's likely to be angry with me over challenging him in front of his students, which I can understand. I remain rooted to my spot by the row of knives, while Erik stalks to me. "Come with me," he commands.

I follow him out, bracing myself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Note - Okay, so I wanted to do something a little different. This is part of Chapter 4 in Eric's POV. I plan on doing the second part of Chapter 4 in his POV tomorrow (if I can). I hope I didn't butcher Eric up too badly. Let me know what you think!**

I wasn't meant to be good. I grew up knowing I would be bad. How did I know? My mother told me. Everyday until I chose Dauntless as my faction.

When she could no longer spout bitter words at me, I carried the tradition on by myself. Each morning I would wake up, make a pot of coffee, and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I'd whisper how heartless I was. Over and over.

That didn't happen this morning. I woke up early as usual, but I stayed in bed with Tris rather than tell myself poisonous lies. The past couple of months have proven my mother to be a liar. A heartless person wouldn't come to care for someone more than them self. A heartless person wouldn't be capable of loving at all. And I love Tris Prior. It took me a couple months to figure that out, but I _did_ figure it out.

She's alive in ways no one else I know is. There's this energy inside of her that draws me in helplessly. I liken it to a siren's song. And like all foolish seamen, I don't care that I'm being reeled in, possibly to my death. Maybe because I know a life without Tris is worse than death.

So this morning, when I woke up, I laid there and I soaked in the contentment like a sponge soaks up water. I played with strands of her hair. My nails would occasionally scrap lightly against her scalp and she'd shiver in response. It made me smile that I could give her pleasure. I didn't know I had the ability to do that. This _tiny_ fragile girl changed me, molded me into a new man. A man I hope she can be proud of.

That's one of the reasons I'm taking her back to her dormitory. I don't want to. No, I definitely don't want to. I want to keep her with me tonight. And not just tonight, but every night. But she asked me to take her back. I realize I can't keep her locked up. I can't be selfish with her...so I ignore every instinct I have that tells me to keep her close. If I gave in, did what Iong to do, she'd hate me.

Tris isn't the type of girl you can hold on to if she doesn't want you to. She's born for better things than to be controlled by someone like me. I doubt I have the power to control her even. More importantly, I don't want to control her. Not really. I want her love more than I want to be in control, which is a first for me.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear Tris' name being yelled. I see a short girl making a beeline for us. Christine. The same Christine I forced to hang from a slippery railing a couple of months ago. I hold my head high because that's what I do, but inside I'm fighting a war.

I can't say I'm ashamed by my actions towards the dark-haired girl. I'm not exactly proud either. I'm facing a crossroads, unsure of what road I belong on. How can someone know who they are or should be, when everyone's already made that decision for them?

My mother decided I'd be bad before I was born. The day she found out she was pregnant and my father left, saying he had to interest in being a dad. I became what she foretold, but only because I let her. I let her play God. I wasted a lot of time believing in a lie, but not anymore. Not when it would ruin a future with Tris.

A future that may never come to pass.

Foolishly I assume Tris will say something to her friend about where she's been. Some naive part, I didn't know existed, believed Tris would be happy to share whatever we had with people close to her. I was wrong. I observe the back of her and I don't need to see her face to know what's going on. The way she won't so much as look at me tells me all I need to know. I feel like she's screaming to the world I'm not good enough. It doesn't matter, no one has a clue what they're missing. Tris and I know though, and it hurts. It hurt so much. More than a punch to the stomach; more than a mother yelling poisonous things at her child.

With every second Tris stays silent, a part of me dies. The future I envisioned begins to crack under the pressure of reality, and I break along with it.

I'm tempted to lash out. The monster inside me begs to be let loose. I shake with the need to give in to it. Someone needs to pay and I zero in on Christina. This is her fault. Tris is doing this because of the loudmouth Candor.

I'm a fool for exposing myself to Tris. I'm an idiot for falling so hard for a girl who will never be mine. And I decide I'm a jackass for what I put Christina though. Unfortunately, she wasn't my first victim, and she wasn't the last. With that thought, the monster stops rattling its cage. My head clears. All I can think is that this is _my_ fault. My actions brought me to this place of loneliness and desolation.

I have to leave. I need to escape this suffocating situation. There's no reason for me to stay here. Tris has made her wishes crystal clear. I love her enough to respect her decision.

Imagine, Eric the Dauntless leader, caring for someone...

Moving is probably the hardest thing I've ever done. One booted foot steps in front of the other, taking me further from the one person I'd die for; the person I'd kill for in a heartbeat. Does she know she's killing me? Does it matter to her? Is there any regret coursing through her veins like there is in mine?

I stare straight ahead, head held high...because that's what I do.

Then she's there, grounding me to earth with her touch.

"Eric let me stay with him," she informs Christina.

 _Yes._

My knees threaten to buckle, I fight the tears, and I don't let go.

"...sleep with the enemy," breaks through my relief.

"Back off," I find myself saying. "Tris didn't do anything, so stop."

"She did enough," she replies.

 _She's done everything,_ I want to say. _She's saved me without even trying. She's mine and no one gets to hurt her. Not you, not me, not anyone._

I don't follow Christina. I don't demand she apologize to Tris. Tris is the reason why I stay. She's the reason I do anything anymore.

"Well," she says. "That went well I think."

Her tears drive me to the brink of insanity. I hate each one of them, but I hate Christina even more for causing the tears.

I pick her up. She's so light I can hardly feel her weight. I didn't want her with me like this. She shouldn't have to suffer because she chose me. One thing I will never do though is question her decisions. If she chooses me, I will trust that she knows what she's doing. I may not be good for her... no, I know I'm not, but I'll leave that up to her.

"I can walk," she says, her defeated voice destroying me.

"Of course you can," I say. "I'm here though, which means you don't have to." I don't tell her I'll carry her for as long as I live.

"I don't want to cry. I want to be stronger than this," she says.

"Crying doesn't make you weak weak, Stiff," I reassure her.

She needs to believe this. If she trusts in nothing else, then she needs to trust in this. If I make her feel _wrong_ for crying, I'll never forgive myself.

We talk, I hold her, and then there's the glorious relief of sleep. My world is perfect; I have Tris.

 **Part 2**

I'm pretending to watch Molly and Drew throw knives, but I keep checking on Tris out of the corner of my eye.

She's improving. The weeks worth of extra training has paid off. The knife hits the target more often than not now. Her confidence has increased tenfold as well, and I am so proud of her progress.

I know its been hard on her. Christina hasn't said a word to her since she told her about us. Will and Albert follow Chtistina's lead, which frustrates me to no end. Tris deserves better than this. Especially, from people confessing to care for her.

Her improvement will only make their attitude worse, I know. Jealousy is never pretty.

Once Molly and Drew throw the knives, I glance over at Tris again. Only she's not alone. Peter's at her side, a predatory look in his eyes.

I know Peter's type. He's insecure and to cover that up, he plays the bully, and he plays it well. That might be his downfall if he doesn't back off soon. There's no way in hell I'm going to stand by and watch him harass her.

I can't hear what he's saying, but I watch Tris for clues. She's stoic, face serene as she pulls the knife behind her shoulder, preparing to throw it. She's beautiful as she positions herself, the knife becoming a part of her.

I see her pause, turn her head, and I notice how Peter's closing the distance between their bodies, hand outstretched as if to...

I'm there, in Peter's face, killing him in my head. There's so many tempting options. None of them are good enough for him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I say, my teeth grinding together.

"I-I wasn't going to do anything," he says.

The lie burns me, taking my anger to another level. He's nothing. He's weak. He's me.

"Really?" I ask, daring him to dispute the truth again. Without my permission my hand takes hold of his collar, dragging him closer to me. "It didn't look that way to me."

I'll show him what it's like to be touched against his will. I'll show him what happens when he dares to touch what's mine. Because she is mine. As much as one can make an un-tameable thing there's.

"You s-saw wrong, I guess," he replies.

I see red. How dare he. He's a coward who can't face the consequences of his actions. I've had enough of him. He will never leave her alone. He'll always be close by, waiting.

His eyes tell the story of a boy seeking revenge. Seeking revenge until his thirst for it has quenched. When will he be satisfied? After he's killed her? When he squeezes the life out of her, leaving her an empty shell?

That can't happen. It _won't_ happen because I'll end him now. It'll be over and I won't have to worry about Peter hurting her. She won't have to worry about him anymore. All I have to do is kill him.

I'm talking, but all I register are the tendons in his neck tense under the palm of my hand. I feel his pulse pounding beneath my thumb. He's shaking. He's afraid.

He should be.

"Eric."

That's my name, isn't it? I'm Eric. Yes, but that's not important right now; I have to finish this. My hand wraps around the front of his throat. Almost done.

"Eric," I hear again. The voice is familiar. I know this, _but I have to eliminate the threat._

"What?" I ask impatiently.

"Let him go."

No. Grasping harder, I squeeze. He gasps for breath, and it sickens me. He doesn't have the right to keep living, does he? He's dead inside; I would be doing him a favor, right?

Let him go. Tris. She asked me to let him go. Why? Can't she see how I'm doing the right thing? The world's too full to waste precious space.

Let him go. Tris. Tris. Tris.

Let go!

...Okay.

I'm stepping back, releasing him because the girl from Abnegation asked me to. I'd laugh if I could.

I'm dizzy and confused. I'm angry and tired.

I search the shocked faces, searching till my eyes light on Tris. She's standing like I taught her to when she's going to throw a weapon. Have I scared her? Please, no.

Desperately I head to her, praying that I haven't lost her. I beg her for mercy inside my panicked head. I run through words I can use to fix this. To reassure her that I'm not an uncontrollable monster.

 _I'm not_ , I plead with the voice that tells me I am.

"Come with me," I say when I've reached her.

 _Please, Stiff. Whatever you do, please don't give up on me._


	6. Chapter 6

"I messed up," he says, once we've cleared the door.

I stay silent, shocked. Does he mean he messed up for letting Peter go, or for starting a scene in the first place?

"Say something," he pleads, his earnest eyes boring a hole into mine.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask. Why is he acting so desperate? He didn't do anything compared to what he _could_ have done. And frankly, I'm surprised he listened to me at all.

"I want you to say it's okay. I _need_ you to say you forgive me _,"_ he begs.

"Eric...what's going on?" I ask, concern squeezing my chest tight.

"I ruined everything. I'm sorry, Tris. Please..." he trails off, his voice breaking.

He's scaring me. My eyes widen and I feel a lump form in the bottom of my throat, swelling painfully. I have no idea what's going on, but I wrack my brain for a way to fix it. I'm not strong enough to watch him like this. "It's okay," I rush to reassure him. "It's okay, Eric."

Four steps into the hallway, arms crossed. "What just happened in there?" He asks.

"Nothing," I reply, cutting off whatever Eric had been about to say. It isn't Four's business. No one got hurt this time.

"I don't know what's going on between you two, and it isn't my business," Four starts, "but you should be careful," he says, looking at me.

Eric laughs maliciously. "Think I'm going to do something, Four?"

"Are you?" the other man asks, mouth set in a thin line.

"Only to people who stick their noses where they don't belong," Eric retorts.

"It's my job to keep the initiates alive," Four reminds him.

"Yeah? Well, you have nothing to worry about, Four, so thank you for your concern," Eric says. Sarcasm flows from the words like oozing venom.

"Tris?" Four asks me, waiting for me to either agree or disagree with Eric.

"Yeah, it's fine," I murmur distractedly.

Four nods in acceptance and walks back into the training room, leaving Eric and I alone.

"He's in love with you, you know," Eric says conversationally.

"You're being ridiculous," I say.

He shakes his head, a cold smile forming slowly. "Would you like that?" he asks. "Would you like it if the perfect instructor cared for you?"

"Stop," I demand. I start closing the distance separating us.

"You would," he spits out. "You'd love it, love _him_ because he's Four and he's perfect. It would be so much easier than being stuck with me!" he roars.

"Stop it."

"Why?" he asks, his voice cracking. "I'm only telling the truth."

I place both hands on his chest, and lean my forehead against him. "Eric," I say gently. "I'm not a mind reader. What's going on in your head?"

Normally, he'd put his large arms around my waist by now but he hasn't yet. They're hanging stiffly at his sides. It must be bad for him to act like this.

"I thought you were afraid of me," he replies quietly.

"Why would I be afraid of you?"

"I almost killed Peter, Tris. I wanted to so bad."

"But you didn't," I say.

"It doesn't matter. And the things is, is that I'm not any better than Peter. It wasn't so long ago when I was the one tormenting you."

"Yeah, I remember. You have changed though. That's the difference between you and Peter. As for me being afraid of you, I trust you more than anyone else in this faction."

"What?" He glances down at me in surprised shock.

I smile. "Yeah, I really do. You're special, Eric."

"Am I?" My heart breaks at the hopeful expression he's giving me.

"You are," I say firmly.

Arms embrace me, tightening till I can't breathe. "Thank you," he whispers.

0000

"Try to get me to the ground," Eric instructs.

"I am trying."

He winks at me. "Try harder."

"Eric," I groan. "We've been at this for two hours and I'm no closer to beating you then I was when we started."

"You aren't going to give up. Again," he orders.

I love this side of him. He's playful, yet serious. I keep trying to pin him because he believes I _can._

"What do I get if I succeed?" I ask, circling him on the mat.

"One step at a time, Stiff," he says, smiling wide enough to show off his perfect white teeth.

"I like to plan ahead."

He opens his arms wide. "What do you want then? Your wish is my command."

Talking is his biggest weakness when we spar. I keep him talking and I end up doing better. So far he's been fast enough to counter all my attacks. What I take from that is I must not be doing a very good job at distracting him.

"You. I want you," I say boldly, drawing closer.

Target engaged, I think smugly. I'm fascinated by the blush staining his pale cheeks. _He's perfect._

"You already have me," he says.

"I haven't had your mouth," I murmer.

I'm behind him and I run a finger down the column of his spine. I could've pinned him down by now, but this is much more fun.

"If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask." We haven't been running, but he's panting like he's just run a race. Interesting.

"Isn't it the guys job to initiate the first kiss?" I ask, placing my hand on the small of his back, kneading gently.

"Why does the guy have to do everything?"

I'm proud when I hear him stifle a groan. He's putty in my manipulative hands.

"If he considers initiating a little kiss to be work, well, he doesn't deserve to be kissed," I say.

Time to make my move. My fingers stray from his back to rest flat against his neck. Like a snake prepared to strike, I pinch the spot between his jaw and ear.

I win.

0000

"I can't believe you did that," he says. He's said it a thousand times, but I giggle every time when I hear the note of disbelief in his voice.

"You told me to try harder," I remind him.

"You cheated," he mumbles.

"No one likes a sore loser, Eric," I tease.

It's been hours, but he's not stopped grumbling. I hear him say things like, "Unbelievable," and, "Can't believe I fell for that."

There's a smile on my face, and I'm...happy. Eric makes me happy.

"You never paid up," I say, both of us resting on his bed.

He's been reading a book on self-defense, but he puts it aside, rolls over to face me, and grins mischievously. "Not sure what you mean," he says.

"I think you do," I reply.

"I don't reward students who cheat."

"You just let them take over your room and sleep in your bed every night?" I ask.

Simultaneously, our eyes roam the apartment, taking in my clothes laying on the furniture; a picture of my brother sitting on top of his dresser...it's all very domestic looking.

"Only one student gets that privilege," he says quietly.

"Lucky student."

He hums in the back of his throat. "More like lucky instructor."

"True," I agree smartly. "Goodnight, Eric." Laughter bubbles up in my chest. I get a glimpse of his surprised face as I'm turning over, and I wait. He doesn't disappoint. He never does.

"Stiff?" He pokes me lightly in the arm.

"Yeah?" I ask over my shoulder.

"Weren't we just having a moment?" He's adorable when he's confused.

"Were we?"

I feel more than hear his indignant huff because he settles his body right next to mine. "Yeah, we were. See, I was trying to set the mood, but you aren't cooperating."

Set the mood? I've opened my mouth to ask, but he's climbing over me, laying down to face me. "I wanted it to be perfect," he says, eyebrows furrowed.

I'm lost. "Now it can't be?" I ask.

"It can be," he concedes. "It won't be what I planned in my head though."

"What did you have planned?" I ask curiously.

"I don't know...we don't plan it per se. It happens in one of those moments where we're gazing into each other's eyes, helpless to look away. Then we kiss," he says, shrugging.

I can't help it. I burst out laughing at the picture he painted. I love it, but it sounds too perfect. We're Dauntless after all. Our first kiss should be passionate, messy. And it is. Suddenly, he's cupped my face, and lowering his lips to mine. He's sweet in the way he leans over me; in the way he presses small pecks to my lips before diving in, pressing me into the mattress.

I'm instantly addicted to the taste of him, and it's amazing. I see stars, fireworks, _the world,_ behind my closed eyelids.

We part, and he stares at me with this look I'm unable to resist. "You're everything, Stiff," he says

I'm not. That isn't something I want to be for him. It's overwhelming. It's power I don't want to have. I care about Eric more than I ever thought possible. I wake up and my first thought is for him. It's the same when I fall asleep. I keep asking myself if it's enough. Is it love?

"So no pressure," he smirks.

I laugh. "Yeah, thanks."

This is why I care. Who could know the real Eric and not be in awe? Complex doesn't come close to describing him. I could spend my entire life with him, and still I wouldn't have him figured out completely.

"Are you happy, Tris?"

"Can't you tell?"

"What if I'm seeing what I want to see, rather than the truth?"

I despise the doubt bleeding into his brown eyes. I hate the fear he fights everyday. Most of all, I hate that I can't fix it; that I'm partly the reason he's afraid. It's a part of him. The fear is alive and kicking, waiting to attack, and I can't shoot it. I can't stab it with a knife till it's gone. _I can't reach it._

"I'm more than happy. You've made Dauntless my home."


	7. Chapter 7

"You passed."

"I did," I say, nodding my head.

"I knew you would," Eric says, bending over to press a soft kiss on my forehead.

"I'm glad somebody did." Because I had serious doubts. Without Eric I wouldn't have made it to the second stage of initiation. "I owe it to you," I say, a smile on my face.

"You owe me nothing," he denies. "All I did was offer up some encouragement; you're the one who did all the real work."

"I didn't think you were the humble type," I tease, elbowing him gently in the ribs.

"I'm not," he says. "I've got a fantastic personality and I'm the handsomest, Dauntless man there is. _And_ I've got the prettiest girl in all the factions put together." He smiles, tugging on a piece of hair that's fallen out of my pony-tail.

I give him a look. "Liar," I say.

It doesn't bother me that I'm not very pretty. I've always thought there was going to be someone more attractive than me, so why worry about it? But, I wonder if Eric wishes I was prettier. Could that comment mean more, or am I being too sensitive?

He shakes his head, grinning. "Not with you, Stiff. You're beautiful. No one's eyes burn like yours when they handle a gun. No one's body moves as fluidly as yours does when you walk. And your smile," he breathes. "Do you know what your smile does to me, Stiff?"

"You can't say things like that," I mumble.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know how to respond to them," I say, embarrassment flushing my cheeks red.

"You know that means I have to give you more compliments, right?"

"You taught me how to use a gun, Eric. I'd be careful if I were you," I tell him, leaving his room to go get some food.

I hear him jog to catch up to me. A muscular arm wraps around my waist, halting my progress. "You're gorgeous when you're threatening my life," he breathes into my ear.

"You're crazy," I say, squealing when his fingers dig lightly into my ribs.

"There are so many cliched, cheesy things I could say right now." He laughs, deep and smooth. "I'm tempted, but I won't," he promises.

"And I thank you for that," I say, twisting halfway to kiss the underside of his chiseled jaw.

"Come on," he says. He tugs me along, and I follow him

Everyone knows about us now. The staring doesn't bother me anymore. Christina's glares, Will's disapproving stare, and Al's disappointed looks, stopped making my stomach twist uncomfortably. I wish they could understand, but they can't and I had to face the fact that they weren't the kinds of friends I wanted for myself. I hope they'll come around, but if they don't, I'll live.

So I walk hand in hand with a boy I can't imagine living without. I follow him because he understands me, he accepts me, he loves me. I follow him because he's magnetic. His energy, his soul calls to mine, always demanding an answer. I don't know how to resist and I have no desire to try.

0000

I'm walking beside Four. I'm being led to the room where I'll be forced to confront my fears in a simulation. I've prepared myself for this. Eric has helped prepare me for this. And yet I feel so horribly _unprepared_. I don't think I can do this.

I wish Eric was with me.

Four, like Eric, is extremely intense. All you have to do is observe their movements, the shift of their eyes to see how controlled they are. One thing I've learned since becoming Dauntless, is that control is a mask. It's a lie, hiding the truth from prying eyes.

"Are you ready for this?" he asks.

 _No._

"As ready as I'll ever be," I reply.

I sit in the cold metal chair, in the cold bare room. I wait for the inevitable to catch up with me. I'm afraid. The pounding beat of my heart is like a drum. My left eye twitches, my foot taps against the linoleum nervously. And I wait some more.

It's taking forever for him to hook me up and set everything up. I'm going to die if I don't get this over with soon.

"Alright, Tris," he says, delicately sliding the needle into my neck. It's a dull hurt. The kind that can be easily ignored if you're distracted. "You'll do great." His mouth twitches as if he wants to smile reassuringly but he doesn't. He watches me, head cocked slightly. I get the distinct impression he's trying to figure me out.

The thought fades away as I'm pulled under.

0000

"It went...well," I say.

"I was told you were the quickest to wake up."

It's dangerous. I'm standing in dangerous waters and if I'm not careful, I'll drown.

"I guess you did a great job helping prepare me for what to expect," I say brightly.

"Once you're in the simulation, Tris, you can't remember things like that," Eric says. "You have no idea you're even in a simulation," he adds.

"I don't know," I lie. "I did well today. Can't you just be happy for me?"

I thought my Divergent tendencies would be easier to hide. You _can't_ hide when people explore what's going on in your mind though. The simulations are going to expose me, rat me out, and there's nothing I can do about it. I have no one to turn to.

I won't involve Eric in this. I'm not going to risk him getting hurt.

"I am happy for you," he says, his voice confused, his eyes calculating.

"Good," I say.

"Good," he parrots.

I lay down, facing the wall, fighting the undeniable urge to cry. It had been hard today. I might have gotten through the simulations quicker than the rest, but it took a lot out of me. Then Four acted so suspicious I worried he knew what I was. He questioned me over how I got through it so quickly, how I was able to calm down so fast...There's only one truthful answer and to say it out loud would literally end in my death.

A hand on my hip jolts me from my thoughts. "Somethings wrong," he says. "It's okay that you don't want to tell me. Just know I'm here."

He says nothing else. It's midnight and I'm exhausted, but he gets up from the bed, to read some book on the couch. I think he may be trying to give me space. I can appreciate the thought because it reminds me how thoughtful he is, how attuned to me he is. Eric gets me like no other person ever has.

"Could you - I'd like..."

"Yeah?"

 _Just say it._ "I can't sleep if you're not with me," I admit quietly.

His smile is understanding; his eyes are relieved. Like he hadn't want to leave the bed in the first place. "Yeah. That's good. Very good," he rambles.

I adore being surrounded by him. It's like being protected from a horrible storm, like being shielded from a thousand firing bullets. Life is raining hell down on me, but I have him.

"Eric, I want to tell you something," I say.

My body angles to face him, and I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together. I close my eyes. I hold the tears at bay, banishing them before they have the chance to fall.

"Okay," he says.

"No matter what happens, I need you to know that I can't see a world where you aren't by my side. At least not a world I want to live in. Okay?" I ask, the words shaky.

"Stiff?" he questions.

"Everything's fine," I say, smiling the best I can. "I just don't want to waste time not telling you how I feel."

He doesn't believe me. Not completely anyway, but that's okay. If I get found out he won't get in trouble for protecting a Divergent because he'll have no idea I was one.

There's fear he'll hate me for keeping this from him. I don't want to die knowing he hates me. I don't really want to die at all. For now I take it one step at a time. One breath at a time.


	8. Chapter 8

_The Pit is completely void of all human life. Somehow that doesn't bother me. It's deadly quiet except for the wail of a woman ahead of me. I can't see her, but I can hear her._

 _She screams out in pain and I run to find her. I can help. I'm the only one around to help._

 _I find her in the tattoo parlour. I know her. She was the one who wrapped my ribs up the day Eric insisted I stay with him for our first night together._

 _I register the pain displayed on her heart-shaped face, turning her into a horrifying victim._

 _Two faceless men have her strapped to the chair where I got my tattoo awhile back. Like usual the room is dark, but this darkness doesn't give off the same relaxed vibe I've become accustomed to. No, this darkness is meant to cover up secrets, or maybe the darkness is what comes before the revealing._

 _I think this because I take a small step into the room when I see why the girl is screaming. A needle's dangling in the air, as if it's being used by someone invisible._

 _The girl is marked all over her body. Dark lettering mixed with blood - the needle cuts so deep - is tattooed over her forehead, her cheeks, arms, legs, hands..._

 _Everywhere. Everywhere I look there's ink._

 _I'm sick. The picture I'm seeing, grips me, shakes me until I throw up. My body is frozen after, and I curse myself for being so weak when this young, innocent girl needs my help._

 _My knees ache from the harsh tile. I realize I fell to my knees when I lost all the contents in my stomach. If I stay down here, the girl will die. I think this over and over, finally making it to my unsteady feet._

 _Then I force one foot in front of the other. Neither man turns to me, though I'm not being particularly quiet in my approach. Two feet from her, I make out the words etched violently into her porcelain skin. Or should I say 'word' ..._

 _Divergent. It's written in beautiful cursive, painted in red._

 _I slap a hand over my mouth, but the gasp escapes between my fingers anyway._

 _That's when the men jerk their heads around. Two men that aren't faceless anymore._ _Peter and...Eric. Both look at me and say, "Your next."_

 _No._

"No!" Someone screams. In a flurry of movement, I'm out of bed, clutching my chest, panting for breath.

I can't breathe. I. Can't. Breathe.

Tears form as I start clawing at my throat. The air has been taken from me. I need it back.

"Hey." A hand on my arm registers through the panic. "Tris. Calm down. It's me - Eric." The words are gentle, loving.

"Eric," I whimper.

Fingers run down the length of my hair. "Yeah. You're alright," he soothes.

"This sucks," I say once I've caught my breath.

"You've had nightmares every night for the past week," he comments. "I don't want to push, Stiff, but this isn't healthy. Is it the simulations? Are they becoming to much for you to handle?"

"Yes, but not in the way, you're thinking." I didn't want to tell him. It was selfish. The thing was, I couldn't do this anymore. I'm more than ready to be selfish.

"What way then?" he asks.

"I don't know if I should tell you," I say, biting my lip.

I hear him sigh. "I think I already know," he says.

What? He couldn't possibly...

"I doubt that," I say skeptically.

"Four sabotaged your test results. He said it was water damage, but I know better."

"Eric-"

"I've been waiting for you to tell me all week," he admits quietly. "I thought you trusted me," he says, the hurt clear on his open face.

"I do. I haven't told you because it's dangerous," I hiss.

"Of course it is!" he says. "That's why you were supposed to talk to me. I could've easily taken care of those results."

Wait.

"Four got rid of the evidence?" I ask.

Eric looks conflicted. "He did."

I'm relieved. Why Four protected me is beyond me. Unless Eric was right before when he said Four had feelings for me. If that's true, why hasn't approached me? Because of Eric?

"I haven't told anyone," I say. I say it out loud because I don't want him thinking I told Four anything. I don't want him to doubt me.

"I didn't think you did," he says un-convincingly.

"What am I supposed to do?" It's so right to look at him to help me. It feels so easy to let him take charge now that he knows the truth.

"You lay low. I'll take care of the rest. I know Jeanine. She trusts me."

He's upset. Not the kind of upset that strikes fear into the hearts of those around him, but the kind that makes me regret my choice. In his mind I've lied to him. In my mind, I was saving him from facing death by my side.

"I'm sorry," I say, hanging my head. My feet give out and I sink to the floor.

"You did what you thought was right. I can respect that," he says.

"Still-"

"You did what you thought was right," he repeats firmly.

I gaze up at him. "You're not mad?" I ask.

I see a small grin lift the corners of his mouth. "I was," he admits. "But I remembered that's what you do. It's who you are." He shrugs. "You protect the people you care about."

I think about that. "I _am_ sorry."

"It's okay. I'll forgive you this time," he says, chuckling a little.

Without warning, he takes hold of my hand, tugging me quickly to my feet. It's so sudden, I fall into his chest.

"Let's get out of here." His eyes are bright with feverish excitement. He's slightly tense, and I know he's about to do something he shouldn't. He's about to get _me_ to do something I shouldn't.

"Where do you want to go?" I ask cautiously.

"There's this place we go to for fun. We actually take initiates there, but it's outside and I need to pretend I'm free for a couple of hours. With you beside me."

"You want to go now?" _Why not?_ I ask myself. That's what I've wanted from the very beginning, right? To be free...

"Yes. Come on. Let's live a little," he says, raising his eyebrows at me encouragingly.

I don't think. "Okay."

0000

I feel like we should be sneaking out, but I remind myself Eric is a leader. He would be the one to worry about if I wasn't currently holding his hand, running up the path.

We reach the tracks and there's a train. I let go of Eric, and I run. Arms pumping, legs widening to cover more distance... I'm alive. I _feel_ the wind hitting my face, and I go faster.

Eric's right behind me, gaining ground quickly. He's shouting and yelling, sounding so happy I almost stop to watch him. But if I did that, then we wouldn't be experiencing this moment together. We are one now, moving together, and I can't stop to save my life.

I refuse to stop and let my nightmares, Dauntless, Jeanine, catch up with me. Because right now I'm bigger, I'm stronger, I'm taller. I'm more than myself. I'm free.

"That was amazing," he gasps for breath, when we're on the train.

"It always is," I pant, trying to slow my own breathing down.

He shakes his head a couple times. "This time it was better."

I smile.

0000

"It's an old city," I murmur.

"Yeah. Run down pretty badly, but come on. I want to show you something," he says.

We walk past deserted building's, an old street leading off into land all around. The night sky is brilliant. The fresh air revives me, takes me back to when I would play outside with other Abnegation children. That was a lifetime ago, and that small girl is no longer me.

Standing tall, up ahead is a rusty Ferris wheel. From where I'm standing it's high enough that if I could just get to the top, I'd be able to touch the sky. I'm intoxicated by the thought.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Eric asks, nodding his head at the ancient contraption before us.

It's very old. Not beautiful at all really. At least not in the traditional sense. I understand what he means though. Despite everything, it's still standing, still reaching for the stars.

I nod.

"Want to climb it?" he asks.

Do I? Maybe if I do, I'll find myself in another world. A world where me and everyone else can be who they want to be. There wouldn't be words like 'Divergent' because we'd all be different.

"Yeah," I say quietly. "I do."

Neither of us say anything while we climb. Side by side, we reach for the next rung, leaving the past behind.

"I love you more than I can stand," he blurts out. "I've been searching for you my whole life without even knowing it," Eric says, climbing faster.

He says he loves me all the time, so that part doesn't surprise me. It's that he's saying it now. I stay qtuiet, reaching higher, carefully, making sure I don't fall.

"You know I'm not like you," he continues. I don't save and protect anyone besides myself. But I'm not going to let anyone hurt you because you're Divergent," he practically growls. "I won't let them take you from me. I'll die first."

It's the first time he's said it out loud. The first time he's called me Divergent. He makes it sound like a good thing. Like it isn't something to be ashamed of.

"I know," I say.

I reach for another rung, but I grasp empty air.

We're at the top.

I can't brush my fingers against the stars, there is no other world, but I don't cry. Lifting my face to the sky, I laugh instead. I laugh and I laugh. Left smiling, I turn my head to look at Eric. He doesn't act as if I've lost my mind. No, he's staring at me in awe. He's smiling next to me and I say, "I love you too."

That's the first time I've ever told someone, other than my family, I love them. It feels amazing, so I say it again.

 **NOTE-** So I'm thinking this could be the end? Eric and Tris are on the same page, which was the goal. I'm not sure. Let me know what you guys think. :)


	9. Chapter 9

There are very few times in my life where I can say I've ever been surprised. Truly surprised. The kind of surprise where I'm left speechless. Yet here I am, on the top of an ancient Ferris wheel, with the girl I love by my side, and she's telling me she loves me.

I've heard those words all my life. They've just never been directed to me before. I've sat in the seat of pain and jealousy for so long. I've watched other people pour out their love for the ones they care for, but never receiving that love myself.

So many take that kind of love for granted because they've had it their whole life; they've never felt it's absence. But I've never felt its presence...till now. And what do I do with that? How do I ever recover from those three beautiful words?

I'm high up in the sky - broken, shattered, ruined, in the best possible way. I'm thrown into the flames, and I'm being molded into someone different. I'm stabbed in the heart, and the old, shriveled up heart gets replaced by a new one.

There's pain, there's joy, there's this peace I've longed for my whole life, but never had the pleasure of experiencing. And I do something I've never done before.

I cry.

I cry for the little boy I once was. The boy that only wanted to be loved and accepted. I cry for the misguided teenager who got lost in a maze of bitterness so strong he had no idea how to get out. I cry because I never have to go back again. I don't have to be alone because _I'm loved._

A light touch on my shoulder tells me so many things. It tells me it's okay now. It's okay to cry like a child. There's no shame, no judgement. And I think to myself - isn't that what everyone is searching for?

Acceptance.

It's a beautiful thing. It's freshly fallen snow. It's the cry of a newborn baby. It's life and it's mine.

"Eric, we need to go back," she says, each word dipped in gentleness.

Every cell in my body rejects the idea of leaving this spot. But I have a duty I have to fulfill. I became Dauntless so I could be brave, but now I choose Dauntless so I can keep Tris safe.

A war is coming. It will find us whether we want it to or not. And I have a young woman who has to live through it.

0000

"I think we should talk."

Standing in the simulation room, I wait for Four to respond. As always he's hidden his real emotions behind a locked door, and I have no way of knowing what he's thinking. It used to infuriate me, but lately I've been able to control the frustration.

"If this is about you taking Tris to God knows where, then don't worry. I won't say anything," he responds, smirking unhappily at me from over his shoulder while he types something into the computer.

"You know why I'm here," I say. For once I'm not looking for a fight, but it looks like Four is.

"Actually, I don't. Why don't you enlighten me?" Turning around, he leans against the table, arms folded over his chest.

"You screwed around with Tris' results," I say, getting right to the point.

His left eye twitches, the corners of his mouth turn down, and I know I've got him.

"I told you, it was water damage," he replies, shrugging nonchalantly.

"She's Divergent."

Perhaps it's cruel to destroy all hope he thinks he might have with Tris, but I can't take the chance he might try something with her.

"What makes you think that?" He asks, still giving off an unconcerned attitude.

"She told me," I reply. I sigh, tilt my head to the floor, and widen my stance. "You're protecting her, lying for her, because you are in love with her."

"That's not-"

"You're a good liar, Four, I'll give you that. And you might be able to fool everyone else, but to me you're transparent." Giving him a chance to process that, I pause to take a breath. "I understand how you feel about her too. She's amazing, and I'm sorry, but she won't ever be yours."

I watch his eyes harden. "You can't hold on to her forever," he says. "You're going to mess this up; you're going to slip up and show her the real you."

"I love her," I say quietly, locking eyes with him to show my sincerity.

Four seems to be at war with himself. His body is closed off, defensive, but his eyes are conflicted.

"How can you love her?" He asks. "I've known you a long time, Eric. Love isn't in your vocabulary."

"It is now. I'm asking for you to leave her alone. I'm asking for you to keep her secret. And I'm asking for your forgiveness."

"What?"

"I've been a terrible team member and I'm sorry," I say.

I want the bad blood gone. I only hope Four will accept the olive branch I'm extending.

"You're apologizing," he states, more than questions.

I laugh, rub my hand down the length of my face. "Yeah," I say.

Silence reigns. I hear him inhale and exhale heavily. "Okay. Yeah, okay. But if Tris changes her mind? I won't hesitate," he warns.

It's enough. It's enough because I really believe in her. I believe in her love, so I nod my head in acceptance.


	10. Chapter 10

The mirror before me reveals a much darker looking girl than it did a couple months ago. Will my parents like this version of me, or will they be disappointed in the girl I've become?

I fight the urge to find a shirt that will cover the tattoo peeping through my black v-neck. I stomp on the feeling that I should pull my hair back in a tight bun. There's no room to go back. I can only move forward, proud of the girl I am now.

"They're going to be so happy to see you," Eric says, smiling at me from the entryway to his room.

"They won't recognize me," I reply, turning back to study myself in the floor length mirror.

"That's not possible, Stiff. You haven't become less of who you are; coming here as made you more of who are."

It's when I take him in, that I realize Eric's different. He's taken out his eyebrow piercing, his earrings, and he's put on clothes I've never seen him wear before. None of it was un-Dauntless, but the long sleeved black shirt, and the pressed pants were much nicer than his usual attire. Much looser...

"Where's your piercings?" I ask.

His fingers ghost over the tiny holes above his eyebrow before saying, "They didn't match with my outfit," he jokes.

"You dressed up," I acknowledge, slightly confused.

"And you dressed down," he teases, eyes twinkling as they take in my outfit.

"Why did you do this?" I gesture to his clothes and face.

He comes closer and I get a better look at his hair. It's been freshly cut.

Walking until we're side by side, both of us facing the mirror, he says, "I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your parents... I wanted your parents to like me."

I adore the flush that creeps up his checks, making him resemble a ripe tomato. He's gorgeous; he's mine.

"Eric, I don't want you to meet my parents," I say.

A curious mixture of hurt and embarrassment crosses his face and it dawns on me how my comment came out sounding.

"I...o-of course. I'm sorry. I-I just-"

"Eric," I cut off softly. "I meant I don't want you meeting them when you're not being completely yourself. So put your piercings back in, please, and maybe put on your boots instead of these dress shoes?" I ask, pointing down at his footwear.

Deciding he still seems unsure, I press my body into his, running my hands gently down his chest. "And put on a shirt where I can see more of those sexy tattoos," I say.

He grins. "You think my tattoos are sexy?"

I nod. "I do."

Humming, he wraps me up in his arms, lifting me from the ground. Realizing what he wants, I lock my legs around his waist. Characteristically, he rubs his face against the column of my neck like an overgrown cat.

"That tickles," I giggle.

With that he stops to press a kiss in the hollow of my throat. "Better?" He asks, smirking knowingly.

"No," I murmur stubbornly.

He knows what he's doing to me and I refuse to boost his ego by giving him the reaction he craves.

Chuckling, he lightly drags his nose up my neck till he reaches the underside of my jaw, and he presses another kiss to the sensitive spot.

It takes a lot of willpower for me to draw away, but I find the strength. "They're going to be here soon," I remind him. "And there's no way I'm letting you mark me for my parents to see."

A predatory gleam enters dark eyes, and the grin he gives me makes me shiver. We'll never get anywhere if I don't take charge, so I unwrap my legs, but he's there, keeping my legs in place with one large hand.

"Eric, you have to let me go," I say, laughing when he shakes his head in response.

"Give me a minute," he says.

"They'll be here-"

"I know," he says. "Being with you calms me though, and if I'm going to meet your parents, I need this. Just for a minute," he promises.

There are times I forget how fragile Eric can be. Times where I can't see the insecurity that's embedded in his soul. Moments like this remind me of what he tries to keep hidden, breaking my heart in the process.

"I love you," I say, pressing my forehead to his.

Every time I say it, he smiles like I've handed him the sun and the moon. Wonderment is in every line, every crevice of his gorgeous face, and I'm left glowing from his obvious happiness.

"That's good," he whispers. "Because I love you too."

0000

"It's going to be okay," I reassure him as we stand in hand together. We're waiting for my parents and right now I'm talking to myself as much as I'm talking to him.

What if my decision turned them away from me? What if they don't come? ...It's a terrifying question.

"Of course it will be," he agrees, squeezing my hand as if he knows I need his support, which he probably does.

Everyone's parents are here. Will's, Christina's, and even Albert's. And then, I see my mom. My beautiful mother among the crowd of people, searching for me. I've missed her. So much. My eyes dart around her, but I can't find my father. It's with a sinking heart I realize he might not have come.

She finally sees me and I want to cry when I see the wide smile transforming her normally solemn face. Not wanting to wait another second, I start making my way through the crowd to reach her.

She's there and I don't hesitate to throw my arms around her, hugging her with everything I have. Memories flood me, her affection consumes me. In everything my mother has ever done, her love for me has never been a question. This moment isn't any different.

"I've missed you so much," she says, leaning back to get a good look at me. I should be worried she won't approve, but I'm too happy to care.

She laughs, presses her fingers against my inked skin "You got a tattoo."

"To remind me of my family," I reply. I want her to know I had a reason for marking my body up. I wanted her to know the tattoo held meaning for me. I wanted her to know and understand the real me.

"It's beautiful," she confirms. "Like you. Dauntless has changed you for the better, I think."

Her acceptance was more than I had hoped for. Perhaps more than I deserved, but my mother was forever the selfless woman from Abnegation.

"Dad's not here?" I ask.

"Your father is struggling with your decision," she admits. "I'm afraid he misses you and your brother too much."

I wish he was here, yes, but I'm not angry with him for not coming. I expect him to respect my decisions, so I must do the same.

"He loves you," she tells me gently. "And who is this?" She asks suddenly, glancing over my shoulder.

Eric.

He's been waiting a few feet from us since I ran to my mom. I'm startled by the carefully blank expression he's sporting. I've become used to him being much more expressive. This stiff, statue like Eric reminds me of the boy I used to know.

"This is Eric," I introduce. "He's been overseeing the initiate's progress."

My mother is a smart woman. It doesn't surprise me when she glances from me to Eric, a knowing gleam present in her kind, green eyes. "It's nice to meet you, Eric," she says. "My name is Natalie."

Back straight, voice gruff, he says, "Nice to meet you too."

"I suspect you're more than a Dauntless leader to my daughter?"

"I am," he responds resolutely.

I observe her from the side as she takes in the multiple piercings, the long slicked back hair, and the bold tattoos crawling up his neck.

"I see," she murmurs.

I'm close to stepping in because not even my mother is allowed to make Eric feel inferior, or less than. He's better than that.

He shifts a little, but he doesn't look away from my mother's probing stare. Her gaze is not unkind, but it's firm. It's serious and I know she's sizing him up.

"Do you care for Tris, Eric?"

Clearing his throat, Eric looks at me, grins, and says, "Yes. She's my favorite Stiff."

I gasp involuntarily and my mother's eyes widen noticeably. It doesn't bother me when he calls me that because I know he doesn't mean it in the context it's originally meant, but my mom doesn't know that.

I open my mouth to explain that he didn't just insult me, but my mother's laugh stops any potential words from leaving my mouth.

"You'll be good for her," she says. "I hoped she would make friends and find people who would care for her, and I'm glad she found someone like you."

Her words touch him, I can tell. Pride is the dominant emotion displayed in his dark eyes, and he's standing even taller than he was before.

"Thank you, Mrs. Prior," he replies.

"Call me, Natalie." For the first time in my life, I watch my mother grasp another person's hand to shake.

My worries fade away. For today, everything is perfect. For today, I can bask in the life I chose without any regret clouding my happiness.

 **NOTE-** I'm home sick today so I decided to write another chapter. Hope you guys like it. :)


	11. Chapter 11

by lifelive94

"You got to wake up. Come on, Stiff. Wake up," Eric's says, shaking me awake.

I'm in his bed, it's dark, and I'm clueless as to why Eric looks so frantic.

"What's wrong?" I rasp, voice rough from sleep.

"We have to get to the Pit," he responds. Already he's gotten to his feet, throwing random particles of clothing at me.

"Eric?" I check the clock and it's 2 in the morning. "Tell me what's wrong," I say firmly.

He's pacing and running his hand through his gelled hair nervously. I try to remember a time when I saw him acting like this.

I can't come up with anything.

"Their going to inject everyone with a formula that will have everyone under Erudite's control, or more accurately, Jeanine Matthews' control," he says, finally looking at me with something too close to fear in his eyes.

"I don't understand."

I really have no idea what's happening. Tomorrow I'm supposed to face my fears in the final stage of initiation. What could Jeanine possibly hope to gain by using mind control on the entire Dauntless faction?

"You need to get dressed," he insists, tossing a jacket to me.

I'm pulling the jacket on, pushing my feet into boots, while I'm being ushered out of his room.

"Tris," he whispers, searching the dark hallway. "I'm going to have to inject you with the serum, and you're going to have to play along. Promise me," he demands quietly.

"Eric-"

"No," he hisses. "No, time to explain." His hand is tight on my arm and he's walking so fast, he's basically dragging me to the Pit.

"Trust me," he pleads, keeping his eyes moving over the faces passing us by. "Whatever happens, act like everyone else. Don't make eye contact with anyone; don't stray from the crowd."

"Okay," I reply.

My brain is going haywire. Up ahead I see Dauntless forming lines, while a few people hold needles in their hands, plunging said needle into people's hands. Among those people I see Four and _Peter_. Why is Peter not among the rest of the initiates?

"This is just a precaution," Four yells out to the crowd. "There have been several people reported missing and this tracking device has been designed to keep our people safe."

He sounds so honest that I want to believe him. Yet there's a reason Eric warned me, and I fear the reason isn't be pretty.

0000

I breathe in. I breathe out.

My fingers tremble against the gun I've been given. I'm sweating from the effort it takes to prevent my eyes for roaming.

There's this undeniable urge to move. To run even. The urge grows and grows until I can't think of anything else. It's like having an itch and denying yourself the satisfaction of scratching it.

Blank faces surround me in the dark train. Faces I've never seen so...empty before. Each one of them are holding their guns to their chests, seemingly prepared for violence.

We were told the serum was a safety precaution, but in mere minutes, after being injected, people had stopped talking. Instead, they were all in un-moving, staring off into nothing.

I did as Eric told me. I pretended I was like the rest of them - like empty shells. I stay strong through the entire process, but inside I'm shaking like a leaf. I feel unsteady, unprepared. I'm unsure what to expect; I'm scared I'm going to give myself away.

I might die tonight.

Death is such a funny thing. It's too easy to pretend death isn't a likely possibility in our day to day lives. And right here, right now, it's staring me in the face. It's testing me, challenging me, begging me to crack under the pressure. It's _real_ and it's scary.

I don't move though. I made a promise to a desperate, Dauntless boy. I promised I'd pretend; I promised I'd survive.

So I will.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!


	12. Chapter 12

by lifelive94

Abnegation is disintegrating before my very eyes. My people are being picked off, one by one. Defenseless men, women, and children, are being shot left and right.

The city is now a blood bath. Un-seeing eyes, lifeless bodies, are piling up, and it's horrifying. People are being massacred by a faction meant to protect others. The worst part of it all is that I'm in the middle.

I have a gun, but I don't use it. How can I when I stand frozen in the middle of a war I want no part of? I told Eric I would pretend, but I'm drawing the line here. Not even for him will I kill innocents.

I run to hide behind a house, listening to the terrified screams of a dying faction. I can't hide forever, I won't hide forever.

I see a small boy dead ahead, cowering against a concrete building. His little hands are covering his ears, his face scrunched up with tears sliding down his dirty face. He can't be older than 5.

The incessant gunfire has turned into a swelling orchestra. It's growing, pounding...booming relentlessly. Time slows to a stop where the only two people are me and this child.

My parents are in danger. I need to find them and Eric. I should remain hidden to stay alive. Yet, the soldiers are coming. Always coming and there's a kid that's about to die.

I hear the cries for help lessening and I know I'm running out of time.

Then bright blue eyes open to look around fearfully, finally landing on me. Blue eyes as beautiful as the sky on a sunny, cloudless day gaze back at me. They're as fathomless as the deepest part of an ocean.

I don't think. I grab him, running as far from the monotonous marching as I can. Tiny fingers clutch the collar of my jacket; legs wrap around my waist the best they can.

Shouting behind me alerts me to the fact we've been seen. The road branches out to the left and I take it, picking up speed. Perhaps I can gain enough ground from them to give me a chance to hide in a building. They have to leave eventually, right?

If they do leave that would give me a chance to find my parents, or someone else still alive. I can save the boy then, and figure out my next move. I doubt going back to Dauntless would be a wise decision. But where would be a safe place to go?

"Stop!"

"Stop or we'll shot!"

The second voice is Christina. I want to save her, my heart is pleading for me to turn around and try something, _anything._

I stay strong, if only to protect the child in my arms. Christina might be worth risking my life for, but she's not worth risking his.

There's another sharp turn in the road, this time to the left. I round it, slip into an open door on the corner, and pray.

For one awful, heart stopping second I fear they saw me take the turn, but I hear their pounding feet run past.

My heart races from excursion; my mind reels from the overwhelming relief flooding my system. I won't faint. I will stop my body from shaking. Any moment now I'll regain control. Any moment...

"Who are you?" The boy whispers.

Sinking to the floor, I let him down. I stare. I pant heavily. I say,"My name is Tris. What's yours?"

"Benjamin," he replies, eyes watching me warily. Smart kid to be cautious.

"It'll be okay, Benjamin," I say.

"No," he says, voice breaking. "They killed my daddy and sister."

I'm hanging on by a thread. Giving in to the despair is so tempting. "I'm sorry. Bad people are controlling the soldiers outside," I explain.

"Why not you?" He asks.

"I'm different. I'm going to get you out of here, Benjamin."

It was wrong to promise him when I could very well fail, but I'll die trying. I'll get him to safety, or die in the process.

Benjamin is about to say something, but he stops at the sound of a breaking stick right outside the door we're currently hiding in. I freeze, then quickly I reach for the gun I placed in the waistband of my pants.

I gesture for him to come to me. He moves quickly, grabbing hold of my leg when he reaches me. He's scared and I don't blame him. My heart is racing once again. I'm dizzy from the fear. When will this end?

I have Benjamin move a few feet away and I wait right next to the open door, back pressed tight against the wall. The person by the door is quiet, so quiet I consider that they might have left, but I can't know that for sure.

I come extremely close to sticking my head around to see if it's clear or not, but a large booted foot steps inside the room before I can make such a foolish decision. A male...definitely Dauntless.

I use a leg to trip the soldier. Amazingly enough, it works, allowing me to gain the upper hand. I place a knee in the small of his back, my gun digging into the back of his skull.

"Try anything and you're dead," I say.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Stiff."

"Eric?" I gasp.

His laugh is an exhale of relief. "Yeah."

"Where have you been? I lost you once we got off the train."

"Could you let me up first?" He asks, twisting his head to raise an expectant eyebrow at me.

I stand up. "How are we going to get out of this?" I ask, uncaring of the slight tremble in my voice.

Hands cup my cheeks, framing my grimy face. "Your mom is close by, Tris. She found me and told me there's a safe place we can go. It's not far from here," he says.

"My parents. They're okay?" Hope is a dangerous thing. It can crush a soul in the blink of an eye, but it can also give the needed strength to get through a terrifying situation.

"They are," he confirms, smiling. "Who do we have here?" He asks suddenly, head cocked, eyes drilling into Benjamin.

I take a step towards Benjamin, almost forgetting he was there. "I found him in the streets. His family is dead," I say.

I'm not sure why I'm worried. Eric isn't the boy I used to know, but I've never seen him interact with a child. To a child like Benjamin, Eric is big and scary looking, and if Eric says or does the wrong thing, Benjamin will only become more scared.

Eric stays silent long enough to make the worry grow. He takes small steps, stopping when he's towering over Benjamin. To the kids credit, he tilts his head back to stare Eric down.

"What's your name, kid?" Eric asks, bending down to Benjamin's level.

"Benjamin," he says.

Eric nods, grins softly, and says, "I'm Eric. You can trust me, Benjamin. I'm not going to hurt you. Okay?"

The kid doesn't say anything for a long time. He just keeps looking at Eric, his eyes roaming over Eric's tattoos and multiple piercings.

"Okay," he responds, taking Eric's large hand in his much smaller one. The trust shining from those impossible blue eyes causes my breath to hitch in my throat.

Or maybe it's the shocked expression covering Eric's face that makes me want to cry. Either way, it's a beautiful sight.

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	13. Chapter 13

by lifelive94

"You said my mother found you," I say, glancing discreetly out a window inside of the deserted house.

Eric's at the opposite window, facing the alleyway. "I was searching for you. Panicking when I couldn't find you and there she was, a gun in her hand, pulling me into the corner of an alley."

He turns to face me. "She made me promise to find you and bring you to a bunker of sorts. She described the area and I'm fairly confident I can get us there."

I scan the empty road. It's too quiet. "Won't they be looking for you?" I ask. "They know I've escaped," I say. "they'll suspect you as well."

He chuckles. "That's how I lost you. Peter's much more brave when he's got a large gun at his disposal."

"What happened?"

"Peter prevented me from leaving the train. He called me a traitor, said I wasn't loyal to Jeanine Matthews anymore because I had feelings for you." He pauses to check outside again. "He pulled out a syringe full of the serum. Apparently, he wanted to inject me to ensure I would follow through with the plan."

Anger flows thick through my veins. I'll kill him if I ever see him again.

"How did you get out of that one?" I ask, checking to make sure Benjamin's were he's supposed to be. I smile when I see his eyes glued to Eric's form, cataloging every move Eric makes.

"Four actually. He played Peter's game. He had a syringe of his own and before I knew what was happening he injected the serum into my system."

"What?" I ask incredulously.

Eric's not Divergent. He wouldn't have been able to fight back against the simulation.

"I was about to kill them both when I realized nothing was happening. I wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but I acted like I was under the simulations control, which proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated. Peter's going to be nothing but a bloody pulp when I get my hands on him," he says, his usual fire burning bright in his eyes.

"So Four injected you with what then?"

He shrugs. "No idea, but so far it's been harmless. The lie allowed me to find you easily enough. Right now we're going to have to trust that Four is on our side," he says.

I wish I knew Four well enough to know if he deserves our trust.

"We can't stay here forever," I say. Hiding away in this house makes me feel like a sitting duck. The concrete walls are closing in on me. The air is being sucked out of the room, making it hard for me to breathe easily.

"No, we can't," he agrees, sighing. "I guess now is as good a time as any to see if their gone."

I go to pick up Ben. He's been sitting quietly ever since Eric asked him to. He's a good listener, wise beyond his years as are most Abnegation born children.

"I'm scared," he admits to me in a whisper.

Lifting him to my hip, I push unruly, curly hair off his forehead. "Want to know a secret?" I ask.

He nods solemnly. "I am too," I whisper. "The important thing to remember is that fear can make us strong if we let it. So you take that fear, Benjamin, and you tell it who's boss, alright?"

Eric comes behind me, ruffles Ben's hair, and says, "Trust her, kid. She's smart."

This could my future, I think. A house with Eric, a few children running around...the mental image of _what could be_ sears itself into my brain. I realize I want this. I want it enough to fight tooth and nail for it. Because I don't know how to let go gracefully. Because Eric needs me as much as I need him and I won't lose him. Because Ben is innocence and goodness personified. Because, because, because.

"I'll go first," Eric says, raising his gun parallel to the ground. He looks back at us to smile reassuringly before he pushes the door open. It's still dark outside and every shadow, every unknown noise is a threat.

The road is deserted except for the dead bodies littering the street. I tuck Ben's head into my neck. No child should have to see the carnage wrought here. No human being should have to be witness to it.

I walk on and I ask myself how Jeanine Matthews got to be the person she has become. I hardly know her, but I keep thinking she's afraid. Afraid of change, afraid of losing control. Erudite contains knowledge and with knowledge comes power. Power is addictive and too much power in the wrong hands can be devastating. Jeanine proved just how destructive power can be.

"I hear something," Eric whispers, stopping. He steps back to us, waiting, gun ready.

Footsteps. They're coming from up ahead, drawing closer. I can make out one set only, which is good because the chances of Eric being able to take out more than a couple soldiers at a time are slim. One is doable.

"Draw your weapon," Eric commands quietly.

This is my instructor. The young man that trained me to handle situations like this and I do what he says. I hold Ben with one arm and I raise my gun with the other. The waiting will be what kills me, not whoever is drawing nearer with every second that passes. Time is smiling at me, reveling in its ability to bring me to my knees.

Whoever it is, is about to round the corner. Why haven't we retreated yet? Why is Eric standing there like everything is under control? Control is a lie.

"Thank God," Eric says, lowering his gun.

It's my mother. My mother is running to me, dragging me to her roughly. "You're alright. You're alright," she says, holding me tightly in her arms.

This is a version of my mother I wasn't aware existed. Her hair is down, she's carrying a semi-automatic, and she looks ready for war.

"Mom?" I question.

Pulling away, she says, "There's no time. Let's just say I know a thing or two about surviving."

Dauntless. My mother came from Dauntless.

"Thank you, Eric, for keeping her safe," she says gratefully, hugging him.

He accepts the embrace a little awkwardly. "For me there were no other options," he replies.

She smiles. "I know. Come. We need to reach your father and brother," she says to me, before quickly making her way to the corner of the street, searching for any signs of danger.

Eric grasps my hand and together we follow her. All 4 of us step out into the road, but we don't get far before a half dozen soldiers surround us.

"Well, well, well. It seems Peter was right. I must say I'm disappointed in you, Eric."

Outside the circle of motionless soldiers, stood none other than Jeanine Matthews in the flesh.

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	14. Chapter 14

by lifelive94

There's only the sound of heavy breathing and Benjamin's sniffles. No one says a word, no one moves a muscle.

"You can't win, Jeanine," my mother reasons.

Jeanine laughs. "Oh but I already have, Natalie. I do wish it hadn't come to this. You could have gone to do great things for me," she says, shaking her head regretfully.

My mother's face hardens. "Genocide will never be considered great."

"Abnegation is so narrow minded," she tuts. "If you could only see this is for the greater good. Unfortunately, a leader must make difficult decisions."

I want to scream. I want to break through the wall of soldiers and scratch her cold, dead eyes out. I want to shoot her in the heart and watch her bleed because she's a lunatic, she's a barren wasteland. She's made herself God, killing those she deems less worthy or those just standing in her way. And it isn't fair. It isn't fair that one woman has been allowed to make what's happened today a reality. Children like Ben have been orphaned for her "greater good" and it's sick, twisted, _disgusting._

Jeanine sighs as if she's truly sorry for what she's about to do. "Take them to headquarters," she commands.

My ears are ringing, my eyes glaze over, and everything goes dark.

0000

"Don't do this," Eric says, voice rough from shouting. "You don't have to do this!"

Eric and I are tied to metal chairs in a small room in Erudite. They've taken my mom and Benjamin.

I woke up with a headache and to a screaming Eric. He's not even trying to hide his panic anymore. The longer we're left alone the more the glimmer of fear in his eyes grow. I suspect Jeanine knows exactly what she's doing.

A camera hangs from the corner of the ceiling so I know we're being watched. If my mouth wasn't taped shut, I would work on calming Eric. If my arms weren't tied behind my back, I would go to him.

"Please. Please don't do this" Eric begs.

At the end of his plea, the door swings open revealing the blonde-haired witch herself. She always so poised, so put-together. I wonder what she would look like if she was in our place. I wonder what she would think about the "greater good" if we had her tied up, awaiting _our_ judgement.

She's silent as she moves to stand behind me. Is this the end? Is this my execution? Perhaps I should be more afraid, but my body is numb. The odds are stacked against us and I'm so tired. If I gave up maybe I'll finally find peace. That's all I want now. The desire for freedom is gone, the urge to be brave has deserted me, the need to prove myself has fled. I'm no more than the powerless soldiers in Jeanine's control.

"I didn't believe you would risk everything for a girl," she comments, placing her hands on my shoulders. I can't see her, but I'm afraid of where this is going. "Out of all my followers, I would have thought you'd be the most loyal," she continues.

He remains silent.

"I guess I'm curious as to why you want to save her. You know, I remember when you were young. You were so eager for attention then."

"You don't know anything," he spits out.

Her chuckle is triumphant. "But I do!" she exclaims. "You're entire childhood was a cliche: A neglectful mother, a father who abandoned you..."

"Shut up," Eric says, quietly.

"And somehow you think this girl," she says, dragging my head back by my hair, "this tiny, insignificant girl, can find it in her heart to care for you?"

The moment she's touched me, Eric's fighting against the restraints, cursing, yelling. "She's done nothing. Leave her alone."

"She's tricked you, Eric," Jeanine says patiently. "She's using you and you're letting her."

"No," he denies, shaking his head furiously. His eyes are on me, searching mine for reassurance. "No," he repeats softly.

"Yes," she insists firmly. "You learned a long time ago just how unlovable you are. You think someone from Abnegation can let go of your past, Eric? You've lived a life of selfishness. You've done horrible things. You need to see the truth." I can hear the smile in her voice. She's enjoying this. "She doesn't love you," she says.

"No!" he roars.

The tape is ripped off my mouth without warning and I swallow down the cry that begs to be let loose. I won't give her the satisfaction of hearing my pain.

Her heels clack against the linoleum floor. Then she's there, kneeling in front of me. This woman is a living corpse. If the eyes are the window into a person's soul, then this woman is soulless.

"Tris," she murmurs.

"Get away from her," Eric snarls.

Ignoring the outburst, Jeanine says, "You know what has to happen. You're a threat to everything I've worked so hard for."

"You touch her and I'll kill you," Eric yells, his face red with fury.

With a tiny grin, she pulls a knife out of a pocket in the inside of her suit jacket. "I hate to get my hands dirty," she whispers conspiratorially. "But I think Eric needs to learn a much needed lesson. Is there something you would like to say before we start?" she asks, head cocked.

I take in the small weapon. I glance at her from under my eyelashes. My eyes flicker to Eric and the weapon. My heart pounds, my eyes water. My mind races with what's been said, with what's about to happen. I think back to when Eric first told me he loved me. I remember when I first learned how to shoot a gun. I recall the last meal my family had before the Choosing Ceremony separated us. I think of Christina, Peter, Four, my mother, my father, Eric, Benjamin...and I hope, I _hope_ it was all worth it. I pray there was a reason for everything that's happened to me - the good and the bad. I don't want my life to have meant nothing. If I've touched even just one person, I'll be able to accept my fate. Because sometimes there's no way out. Sometimes the end is near and it can't be put off any longer.

I glance across the room where Eric's trapped in his seat. He's breaking my heart with those tortured eyes of his. The tears running unchecked down his cheeks cause my stomach to clench painfully, but there's nothing I can do. There's nothing I can say that will get us out of this mess. It's out of my hands now.

Turning my head to look at Jeanine Matthews, I smirk, roll my shoulders, steady my breathing. "Do your worst," I say.

 **Note -** So I got this idea and I had to write it down before I lost it. Hope it doesn't suck. Thanks for reading and thank you all for your comments. You guys are the best!


	15. Chapter 15

by lifelive94

"Just how strong are you, Ms. Prior?"

She's carving the letter D into the inside of my arm. Excruciatingly slow, she drags the knife down. Blood paints my arm red, drip drip dripping to the floor.

Eric's been quiet since the knife first cut through skin. He hasn't looked away though and maybe that is his way of being brave because I know he wants to close his eyes, turn away from what's happening. He shakes in his chair, but from anger or fear I don't know. Probably both.

When line and curve meet, I glance at the finished product. I get a glimpse of what she's done before the blood seeps from the wound.

It's perfect.

"Are you ready to die?" She asks me.

It's an interesting question. Am I ready to die? Am I? Do I want to say goodbye to sunny, carefree days? Do I want to say goodbye to the people who hold a place in my heart?

"I imagine not," she murmurs thoughtfully. "You're so young. If you could've, would you have stayed with Eric? Would you have made a life with him? Had his children?"

Hell is this room and I'm being branded by the devil.

"Why ask if you think I can't care for him?" I croak.

She doesn't look up as she starts on the next letter. "You can't, but he's so devoted to you. It would be unwise to throw such loyalty away," she says.

"You're wrong," I say, my voice steady despite the constant ache pulsing into my arm without mercy. "I do love him and this torture session won't change that."

She's leaning into my face, whispering into my ear, "You misunderstand, Ms. Prior. You are a means to an end. You'd be dead already if it weren't for Eric. He will be broken when everything is said and done. He _will_ join my side again," she says, bending down again to finish her masterpiece.

I clench my jaw.

"Tris," Eric breathes. "It'll be okay. Okay? Hang on for me," he's saying, but my vision is becoming hazy. Pain is wrapping my entire body in its embrace.

I take a deep breath, un-clench my curled fingers, lift my head.

He's directly in front of me looking for all the world like the little boy Jeanine described earlier. He's so much more than he knows. I open my mouth to tell him this, only the knife plunges into my thigh and a strangled scream comes out instead.

"Stiff!" Eric's cry matches my own.

My scream transforms into a hysterical laugh. I gaze up at my torturer, and I laugh through the pain. It's worth it to see her frustrated expression. I'll laugh till I'm dead just to see the anger flashing like bolts of lightning in her eyes.

"Kill me," I say fiercely. "Do it!" I yell as I feel the energy leave my body.

I won't go quietly. If this is my end I'm going to make sure Jeanine Matthews remembers me.

I'm Tris Prior.

And I'm Divergent.

"Do you think killing me will rid the world of Divergents?" I ask angrily. "Do you think killing me will ever tempt Eric to join you? You are going to lose and my only regret is that I won't be the person who gets the pleasure of ending you myself. Watch me bleed, Ms. Matthews. Watch the light leave my eyes. Watch closely because someday you'll be me."

I don't know if she ever responded. I don't know if she felt anything afterwards because the next thing I remember is the glass door shattering and I think I see Four and a few other soldiers storming into the room.

I can't say for sure.

I'm lightheaded from all the blood I've lost. The darkness prevents me from making out any shapes or forms. Everything is in shadow now. Color has been leeched from the world.

There are frantic hands on me when my eyes close.

0000

"You're going to be fine. You hear me, Stiff?"

Eric.

I attempt the seemingly impossible task of opening my eyes. I really really try, but there's something heavy oppressing me, dragging me deeper into the dark abyss.

"Don't you dare give up," he says. Someone is gripping my hand and I think it must be him. "They're going to fix you, okay? They're going to fix you. Just don't leave me behind. _Please,_ don't go where I can't follow."

Jeanine was right...He sounds so broken. So tired. He's been through so much for so long. I want to apologize. I want to say I'm sorry. I want to spend my life loving him. I want to carry his children someday. I want, I want, I want, I _want._

"Do you know how much I love you?" He says, his forehead pressed to my chest.

I want to tell him I love him too. I want to tell him I always will.

"So much," he continues. "I need you, Tris. I need you to open your eyes for me. I need you to smile at me like nothing bad could ever happen," he says, voice cracking. "Or laugh like I'm the only one who can make you happy."

I feel more than hear the sob that shakes his body. I feel how he's holding onto me as if he's afraid I'll be gone if he let's go even a little bit. I _feel_ his desperation and pain. So so so much pain. It knows no end; it's infinite.

"Tris..."

I can't hold on any longer.

0000

I travel the world and back again. I fly like the birds marked into my skin. I soar on clouds with the warm sun caressing my face. I smile till I'm sure my face will split in two. I laugh till I'm dizzy and my stomach aches. I dream and I dream some more.

Images race through my head. Beautiful, colorful, glorious images flood my being. I see my family sitting around a table, enjoying each other's company. I see all factions unified. I see Benjamin running around the Pit. I see people from all factions pumping their fists and shouting with joy. I see Eric and I kissing on top of an old, forgotten Ferris wheel.

How long I spend dreaming dreams is beyond me. Too long and not long enough. But they fade, they leave me eventually.

And I open my eyes.

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	16. Chapter 16

by lifelive94

I'm in the hospital I was taken to when Peter beat me up so long ago. I'm back in Dauntless, which is strange because I know Jeanine had us taken to Erudite...

I try to sit up, but a body next to me on the bed has me trapped. Of course it's Eric, I think fondly.

"You're awake," my mom whispers from the chair beside the bed.

 _My mom._

"You're okay," I say, tears automatically filling my eyes.

She reaches for my hand, squeezes it, and says, "We all are. You scared all of us though. Especially your young man."

"Where is she?" I ask.

By _she,_ I mean Jeanine. Did she get away? Is she dead? I'm not sure what I want to hear. I should want her gone. I should want to see her suffer, and I _did._

Now I want peace. There's been enough suffering, enough heartache. The cycle won't end if I can't move on. So I hope Jeanine Matthews is contained, but I don't wish her dead.

"We're holding her in a cell she made in Erudite headquarters. It was designed to hold Divergents, but it will do," my mother says, grinning.

I am relieved she won't be able to harm anyone else.

"I wasn't there, but I heard Four had a difficult time keeping Eric from killing her. She's lucky to be alive," she says.

"He's got a bit of a temper," I say lightly.

It's a relief that Four prevented Eric from doing anything rash. Eric doesn't need that woman's blood on his hands.

"He's not exactly who I thought my daughter would fall in love with," she comments.

I laugh. He was a surprise for me to. Everything about him, every part that makes him who he is, still manages to surprise me.

"Yeah," I say.

"Nevertheless, I am happy for you, Beatrice. Get some sleep," she says, "we'll talk once you've gotten some rest."

I nod. I turn into Eric's warm body. I breathe him in. I sleep.

0000

 _Three days later_

"You need to rest," Eric says in exasperation.

"I've rested for three days. I need to move around before I go crazy," I insist.

"Your leg isn't healed enough for you to walk on," he replies.

He's being stubborn and protective. He has been since I woke up. I understand why, but it doesn't make me slow down. The sooner the haunted look leaves his eyes, the better off we'll be.

I can't count how many times I've woken up in the night to find him staring at me. Every time he plays it off like it's nothing. He'll chuckle and say I was snoring, or talking in my sleep, but I can always see through the lies.

It does get better with every day that goes by and I'm thankful. Because it tells me that we're going to get through this. It tells me the nightmares that plague me when I sleep will fade with time; that Eric won't worry for my safety unnecessarily.

I have hope.

Having my family here has helped immensely. My father and I have talked and I think he can understand why I made the decision to leave Abnegation for Dauntless. It's a good start.

I'm not sure what will become of the factions. As of now, we are allowing everyone to go where they please. I like that. I like that the restrictions have lessened. Maybe soon, we won't be defined as just Erudite or Abnegation. Maybe someday soon we will be free to be more.

"I guess I'll let you carry me then," I tease.

Groaning, he says, "Why can't we just hide away in our room for a little while longer?"

I give him a look. "Because we aren't the kind of people who hide away. Remember when you told me, I made you brave?" I ask.

He nods. "Yes."

"Let me keep doing that. Don't let what happened turn you into someone your not."

He doesn't respond with words, but he does pick me up, careful of my injuries. With a mischievous smile, he kisses me on the lips.

"Let's go," he says, carrying me out the door.

 **NOTE -** So that's it. I hope everyone enjoyed it and I want to thank everyone who took the time to read it. Especially, those of you who commented. :)


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